


when i saw you

by transsalfisher



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Hurt/No Comfort, Smaurent, baby laurent, no comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 11:23:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transsalfisher/pseuds/transsalfisher
Summary: “This is your brother, Auguste,” Hennike said gently. “Laurent.”“Laurent.” Auguste echoed in a quiet whisper. “Laurent.”The name came out smoothly, it felt nice on his tongue. It was a name he came to love very quickly.Auguste perched himself onto his knees and looked down at the bundle. Rosy nose and cheeks, little hands curled up into fists, the chubbiest arms, and a halo of soft blonde hair. Auguste smiled, then looked to his mother.





	when i saw you

The first time Auguste met Laurent, the room was dead silent after what felt like hours of screaming. 

Of course, Auguste wasn’t in the room when it happened. He was rushed to his chambers with a guard and a maid to keep him company, to make sure he didn’t go wandering anywhere. And while he was far away enough from the royal birthing room, he could still hear his mother audibly wailing in pain. He can’t remember how long it took, but it was nightfall when his father finally came to get him.

He was scared when he saw the firm look on his father’s face, afraid something might have gone wrong. But, then again, if something went wrong wouldn’t he have noticed? Wouldn’t there have been more of a bustle?

Aleron took him to the birthing chambers and all is silent, despite being the polar opposite not even an hour before. His mother had looked up and smiled her warm smile. She looked tired and sweaty and her hair was a mess, but she looked happy. 

“Come here, my love.” Hennike had said softly, voice hoarse. “Come, sit.”

Auguste obeyed his mother and slowly made his way over to the large bed. As he got closer, he heard the quiet noises of a baby in his mother’s arms. Quiet cooing and gurgling as he rested peacefully against his mother’s chest.

Carefully, Auguste pulled himself onto the bed and peeked at the bundle of blue in Hennike’s arms. Auguste gawked at how small he was. He almost didn’t look real.

“This is your brother, Auguste,” Hennike said gently. “Laurent.”

“Laurent.” Auguste echoed in a quiet whisper. “Laurent.”

The name came out smoothly, it felt nice on his tongue. It was a name he came to love very quickly. 

Auguste perched himself onto his knees and looked down at the bundle. Rosy nose and cheeks, little hands curled up into fists, the chubbiest arms, and a halo of soft blonde hair. Auguste smiled, then looked to his mother.

“Can I hold him?” He asked.

Hennike considered it for a moment, Auguste remembered seeing the nervousness in her eyes. But nonetheless, she had nodded. Auguste propped himself up on pillows and his mother had set one in his lap just to be careful.

When the baby was handed over to him, he felt a surge of something warm. It traveled up through his body and settled comfortably in his chest. A warm sensation that made him smile for reasons he couldn’t really understand. Perhaps it was love or pride. But, as Auguste held the baby in his arms, he knew that Laurent was going to be his top priority. After all, what kind of older brother would he be of he didn’t protect his younger half?

The years went by quickly, they passed before their eyes. Auguste had watched Laurent take his first steps and took him on all kinds of adventures around the castle. Several times the older prince was scolded by nurses for being to rowdy or endangering the young prince, but Auguste didn’t mind. More importantly, Laurent didn’t mind either.

Their childhoods were very different, Auguste couldn’t help but note. Growing up, Auguste was always outside, always running around, always causing trouble. But, Laurent was different. He was quiet and well behaved, he preferred to stay inside, and for the most part kept to himself. Auguste didn’t understand how any growing boy could act the way Laurent did, but he still loved him nonetheless. When he dragged Laurent out to go riding or spar with wooden swords, he always made it up to him by sitting in the library with him for however long he wanted.

Auguste loved Laurent in his youth, more than he had loved anything. That love and that sense of pride just amplified as Laurent grew into double digits. He proved himself to be very intelligent, always surprising Auguste with obscure facts. When Auguste was old enough to start helping his father with subjects of war, Laurent was always there to educate him to the best of his abilities on their opponents and allies.

“You know,” Auguste said one day as Laurent piles books into his arms. “I’m almost jealous of you.”

Twelve year old Laurent scoffed. “Of me? Auguste, please, you’re the crown prince of Vere.”

“I know,” he laughed. “But you’re incredibly bright, Laurent. You show so much potential at this early of an age.”

“I’m sure you did too.” He answered as he climbed down from the small ladder and walked towards the a nearby table.

“I showed potential in brute strength and a love for stirring up trouble. You’re different. You’re smarter than most all of the men in father’s cabinet, you were spouting useful information about our allies by the time you were eight, and you’re already fluent in Akielon.”

“I’m barely fluent.” Laurent said, but Auguste noticed the pink blush on his cheeks.

“My point is,” Auguste said, setting down books and sitting across from him. “You’re brilliant, Laurent. And when I’m King of Vere, you’re going to be the one behind it all. I’m just the puppet and you’ll be the puppeteer.”

“When you say it like that, it makes it sound like I’m incredibly manipulative.”

Auguste punched at his shoulder lightly and Laurent laughed. He gave him a punch back then went back to scanning through paragraphs in his book.

“But, really, I appreciate that.” Laurent said. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit though. You’re very smart, too.”

“But I didn’t grow up in a library,” Auguste answered, resting a head on his hand. “I honestly didn’t even know it existed until I was half your age.”

Laurent pauses for a second, then looked at Auguste. Their blue eyes met each other and Laurent smiled. He shook his head, as if Auguste had told him a bad joke, then went back to his book.

“I think you’re wonderful, Auguste.” Laurent said quietly.

“And I think you’re absolutely brilliant, Laurent.”

The last year and a half of Auguste’s life flew by. He became increasingly busier when rumors of a war with Akielos started to surface, which left him with limited time to spend with his brother. Still, he made sure to visit him as often as he could. 

In the midst of all of the bustle, they drifted, really only seeing each other during meals. But they caught up and spoke as if they had seen each other just hours before. They didn’t spend time with each other, they didn’t have time. Auguste was preparing for a war and Laurent was studying the people they were going to go to war with. For a brief moment, though, everything came to a screeching stop. 

The death of Hennike was sudden and tragic and neither of the boys could believe it happened. Auguste took some time away from prepping and Laurent stopped his avid studying. They sat next to each other at her funeral, Laurent gripping Auguste’s hand as they buried her with the rest of their family.

A few nights afterword, Auguste knocked on Laurent’s chamber doors and they spent the night together. They talked about books and the odd Veretian weather. They spoke about their late mother, both shared a few tears, and eventually fell asleep on Laurent’s bed, clothes still on and candles still burning.

Months after Hennike’s death, Akielos declared war. Laurent was aware of this, Auguste was positive. But he wasn’t sure if he realized that it meant Auguste would be going to fight. They had been eating sweet meats and candied oranges in Laurent’s chambers when he finally broke the news to him. Laurent was far from happy.

“How long is this war going to last?” Laurent asked, looking out the window.

“I don’t know.” Auguste’s answered truthfully. “Could be a few months, could be a few years.”

Laurent shuddered at the thought and squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn’t fair to either of them. They still hadn’t completely recovered from their mother’s sudden death and now they were being thrust into a war. Auguste understood why Laurent was upset as he was.

Laurent took a slow sip of water, still staring out the window at nothing in particular. Auguste knew his brother, he knew that he was trying to keep himself from crying.

“I think I’m going to go ahead and turn in for the night,” Laurent said quietly, slowly standing.

“Laurent, no,” his brother sighed. “Talk to me about this.”

“No, no, I’m much too tired. Can we postpone it until tomorrow night?”

“You know it’s going to hurt more the longer we wait.”

Laurent stood at the foot of his bed, one hand on a beam that held up the canopy around it. Auguste frowned as his younger brother’s shoulders hunched then began to tremble. He walked over to him and gently wrapped his arms around him, squeezing the younger prince close to him. 

Involuntarily, Laurent let out a shallow sob. He turned in his brother’s arms and pressed his face into his chest. For a long time, neither of them said anything. They just stood as Laurent cried and Auguste brushed through his hair with his fingers.

“It’s too soon,” Laurent said once he calmed down. “I just lost mother, I can’t lose you.”

“Nobody said you were going to lose me. All that was said was that I had to go to war.”

“Yes, but you know what that _implies_ , Auguste. Not everybody is going to come back from a war.”

There was silence between them for a moment. Thick, heavy silence as Auguste tried to figure out a good way to respond.

“Laurent, the odds of me going out there and getting killed are…”

“Don’t lie to me.” Laurent cut him off. “Auguste, you’re the _crown prince_. You and father are going to be the first ones they go after. You’re an excellent fighter, everyone in Vere knows that but…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“Worst case scenario, I go out there and lose a limb, maybe an eyeball, but I return home safe. Best case scenario, we slaughter enough Akielon that they’ll decide to leave us alone.” He reached out, holding both of Laurent’s hands. “Either way, I’m going to come home to you.”

The last time Auguste saw Laurent was drastically different than the first time. The air was humid and wet from the rain storm the night before, the sky was grey, and Laurent didn’t look peaceful. No, Laurent had bags under his eyes and had brushed his hair into a messy bun. Laurent has barely gotten sleep the night before and anyone who looked at him could tell.

The sun poked through grey clouds as Laurent helped Auguste load his horse. Auguste looked at him and, just like the first time he saw him, saw that same halo of blonde hair. Regardless of what happened on that battlefield, Auguste loved Laurent and was immensely proud of him.

Laurent stood awkwardly once his horse was ready to take him into battle. Men had already left to set up camp and Auguste wasn’t far behind them. He hadn’t even left yet and tears were slowly rolling down Laurent’s pale cheeks. This time, it was Laurent who hugged Auguste first.

“I love you,” Laurent whispered into his chest.

“I love you too,” Auguste lifted his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m going to come back, Laurent. Don’t you worry, alright?”

“I’ll try not to. But if you die out there, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I know.” Auguste smiled.

They stared at each other for a moment before gripping onto each other. Laurent did his best to control his crying, not wanting the men riding by to see. Auguste himself couldn’t help but shed a few tears.

Finally, when he could stall no longer, he pressed kisses to Laurent’s face then mounted his horse. He rode off towards camp and Laurent watched from the castle until Auguste was completely out of sight.

The battle was long and bloody. When Auguste received news of his father’s death, he felt panic bubble in his chest. Naturally, that meant he was the next target. If he could just make it through a few more days of battle, he would be able to return home to Laurent just as promised. He would be able to see his brother’s smiling face again.

When the blade went through, Auguste didn’t feel it for a moment. It took him a second to realize that he had been stabbed. Stabbed by the Prince of Akielos no less. He pulled out his sword and left, rode away on his horse. The blood coming from his open wound was flowing quickly and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He felt black press at the sides of his vision and he could head his mother’s voice, telling him to come sit.

And in his final moments, he sees Laurent’s halo of blonde hair.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything for captive prince, let alone anything for auguste and laurent! i hope y’all enjoyed,


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